


Empowered Omegas

by morrezela



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Implied Mpreg, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-28
Updated: 2013-09-28
Packaged: 2017-12-27 19:58:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/982989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morrezela/pseuds/morrezela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester was supposed to be an omega when he grew up, and he was – at least to the rest of the world. Problem was that Dean might’ve told a few lies to get said world to think that way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Empowered Omegas

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Supernatural is owned by Kripke and the CW and only Chuck knows who else. I’m not making anything off of this.
> 
> Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, mentions of transgender type themes, passing, knotting, heats, mentions of mpreg, wincest, bottom!Sam.
> 
> A/N: This was written for my trope bingo card. The square was “Alpha/Beta/Omega.” I started off trying to do something different with the whole trope. The result is a bit odd.
> 
>  
> 
> All mistakes you find are my own.

It never seemed like that big of a thing. Dad was a beta. Mom was a beta. They both had the recessive omega gene. Dean was supposed to be an omega. The doctors said so.

So when Mom died, Dean started taking care of Sammy. It was just the natural thing to do. He was a caregiver. He gave care. He also shot guns, but that was because Dad only liked stereotypes so far as they kept Sam alive and fed. He preferred liberation when it came to shooting things dead.

Dean didn’t mind so much except for the way all of it wore on Sam. His brother didn’t like the monster hunting, wanted to put down roots and have a normal life. He was everything that a typical omega should be right down to the list of names he was constantly adding and subtracting from for his children.

In retrospect, Dean maybe should’ve gotten on the clue bus a little earlier in his life. Sure he had the burning urge to have a family. His need drove him up the wall sometimes. But omegas didn’t exactly get… bite-y about it. They got all passive aggressive and shit. They got Sam-like.

But Dean was stubborn. He was as stubborn as his father and his brother combined. That might’ve been another big clue, but Dean was good at ignoring things that interfered with his plans. And he had a real good, goddamned perfect plan.

Dean was hot. He was sexy. Once he started having heats, he was going to have a few rare alphas and a ton of overcompensating betas vying for his attention. All he needed to do was snag the right knot. Then he could take Sammy with him and give his little brother a nice place to grow up for the last few years of his adolescence.

So what if he probably wouldn’t love his mate? Dean would love his kids. That would be enough.

Popping a knot two days after his sixteenth birthday sort of put a gigantic kink in his plans. For two whole days he was in denial. That wasn’t his dick. His dick did not keep popping a fucking gigantic knob every time he spent too long jerking off in the shower. His balls were not shooting giant gobs of come in never ending, baby making ways.

Then he decided to give up on denial because omegas were really, really hot. And, hey, at least he was spared having to have a sexual identity crisis. Because, he’d been sneaking peeks at the other omegas and pretty, female betas in the locker room for years that weren’t quite normal curiosity.

Except… well, he was sort of having an identity crisis anyway. Not that he was sitting around feeling bad that his hormones were all ‘normal,’ but his dad still thought he was an omega. Sammy still thought that he was somebody to look up to as an empowered role model. The schools were still letting him step in whenever their dad was gone because he was an omega, and they had bullshit assumptions about his instincts when it came to Sam.

The thought of anybody taking Sam away made him want to do terrible, terrible things. Only Dean was sixteen, and even alphas couldn’t do much at sixteen. He was a freaking teenager.

So he lied to his dad. When he went to get on ‘birth control,’ he bought a whole bottle of omega replacement hormones and tiny bottles of fake slick that he could hide in his duffle bag. He’d drizzle the stuff on his underwear to leave a fake trail of wet dreams. When his ruts came, he’d take to bed claiming abdominal cramps and yearning and all that stuff that was guaranteed to make his dad head for the hills rather than face his son’s blooming omega sexuality.

It worked pretty damned well if Dean did say so himself. Sure there were a few close calls, but that was life as the Winchesters knew it. Nobody really ever guessed that Dean was an alpha. On occasion, he would be accused of being malfunctioning omega or a beta posing as an omega. His dad would always pat him on the shoulder and tell him that it was ‘okay.’ Which, really, Dean was proud that his dad managed to emote that much.

Then Sammy hit sixteen and dear GOD Dean wanted to cut his damned nose off. Sam smelled wonderful, perfect. It was like living with a warm apple pie fresh out of the oven and being on some sort of apple free diet.

Dean’s only saving grace was that Sam wanted no part of the aggressive betas and lone alpha that came knocking. Sam was aiming for the higher life, and Dean was really proud of his little brother. Prouder even, when the one alpha Sam rejected tried to make a pass at Dean. Sam hadn’t broken the guy’s nose. Dean remedied that.

Of course, as much as Sam smelled great, he didn’t smell all that much different from betas. And the few alphas that managed to cross their path didn’t smell that much different from betas either. They were all still the same species. It was what enabled Dean to stay in hiding.

Different was different enough though. For two years it drove Dean up the ever loving walls of whatever craptastic place they happened to be staying at for the week. What made things worse is that Sam seemed to think that they needed to bond over their mutual need to become nice, settled people having multiple babies and working lawyer jobs or whatever.

And Dean loved Sam, more than he should, in ways that he probably shouldn’t. So he talked and petted Sam’s hair and generally lied through his teeth because all he really wanted to do was bite anybody that came within fifteen feet of Sam. Dean’s needs were simple. Mostly focused all around his knot, but simple.

But Sam got older, and Dean knew that one day Sam was going to leave for college. Their dad might be under the impression that Sam was going to stay and help in the great Winchester hunt, but Dean knew better. He knew Sam. More than that, Sam had outright told Dean that his plan was to take off. When he went, he was going to knock Dean out, tie him and drag him with. Then he was going to keep Dean tied up until he came to himself and started being who he was born to be.

The whole impassioned speech was heartwarming if a guy ignored the fact that who Dean really was involved a whole lot more raunchy sex and a whole lot less kind, gentle mothering. But Sam meant well by it, and Dean just knew that he was going to have to come up with an excuse soon as to why he couldn’t come to California with Sam and live the omega high life.

“Dean? I don’t feel so good,” Sam cried more than sullenly mumbled as he stumbled through the apartment door early. He was supposed to be down at the local burger joint working a shift to make some money for those nasty college expenses that his free ride wasn’t going to give him.

Dean bit his instinctive response of, “But you smell fantastic,” because that was clearly not the right thing to say. Instead he swallowed the drool pooling in his mouth and croaked out, “You smell like you’re going into heat.”

Sam’s face paled. “That’s impossible!” he protested, although his eyes suddenly found the floor far more interesting than they had before.

“Really?” Dean questioned.

“I left my birth control back in Cincinnati,” Sam mumbled. “Dad was pushing! And you were bleeding and… You know how pissed Dad would be if he knew I forgot them, so I took yours instead. Two of them to be safe! This shouldn’t be happening! You’re not that much smaller than me!”

Dean took a deep breath and regretted it. Even drugged up on omega hormone replacements his dick was starting to twitch and swell. “First off, why don’t you try to calm down. Not every sentence is the end of the world,” he managed to croak out.

Sam huffed and scowled at him.

“Secondly, how many of my pills did you say you took? Two?”

“Yes. Two. I’m not sure what the point is there, I’ll pay you back as soon as I get enough money,” Sam grumbled.

“Okay. Okay. It’s going to be fine,” Dean assured himself. It wasn’t the end of the world. Sam’s heat would just be intense is all. That would be fine. Dean could handle that. He’d just go take another couple of his pills himself, and the hormonal imbalance should keep him from…

Sam’s tongue licked up Dean’s throat. His little brother whimpered as he pulled his tongue back into his mouth, savoring the taste.

“Sammy?”

“Why do you taste so good?” Sam whispered.

“Why did you lick me?” Dean asked back. It was meant to wrong foot Sam back into his big, egg head thinking ways. Thinking and logic were Dean’s friends. Hormone addled omega instinct was not.

“You smelled good,” Sam answered, big forehead wrinkling in confusion. “God,” he added, “you smell so damn good.”

“Right,” Dean whimpered as he backed up a step.

Sam followed him. “Really, really good, Dean,” he clarified as he pushed his brother against the wall, all hot, gangly limbs.

“Right. Great. Well obviously my birth control is way wrong for you. It’s completely messing with your sniffer and everything,” Dean lied better than the rug under his feet.

“Dean,” Sam whined as Dean tried to escape from his Sammy shaped cage.

Dean closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. He would not give into his brother. He would not give into his brother he would not give into his b…

“Please? I just need to cuddle. Everything feels so weird,” Sam begged.

And oh, yeah. Right. Sam just needed to cuddle like Dean just liked to drive. It was just a thing. “Fucking crappy liar Sammy,” Dean grunted even as he acquiesced and let his body get tugged back into Sam’s arms.

“Mmm,” Sam groaned smugly as he tucked his hips in against Dean’s. They didn’t slot up exactly. Sam was too tall for that, but they did nestle in right above, his hard dick grinding against Dean’s stomach.

“You need to go to bed, sleep this off,” Dean grunted as he started inching along the wall, his Sam shaped parasite sliding with him, grinding as they went.

“Bed sounds great,” Sam agreed.

“You’re going to be embarrassed about this later,” Dean grunted. It was more of a reminder to his wayward knot than to his brother. Omegas and alphas both got insanely hormonal when they were going through their ruts or heats. Their bodies were made to create the strongest and healthiest of children. Their whole biology focused on it. Sam was just looking for the best possible baby daddy candidate. Alphas just won that category naturally.

But Dean wasn’t in rut, and being deprived of knotting for so many years was no excuse for his dick to try to override his duty to protect Sam. He got enough. When his dad wasn’t around he could play beta and pick up his fair share of tail in bars. So he never got to knot them, so what? It wasn’t that great anyway. He was sure of it.

“Beeeed,” Sam drawled out as he pulled Dean’s earlobe into his mouth.

“Alone, Sammy,” Dean corrected.

Sam bit his ear. “Together,” he whispered against the stinging flesh.

“After you bit me?” Dean managed to quip in a strangled voice.

“You like it,” Sam purred. “I can smell it. Naughty big brother.”

“Quit trying to talk dirty,” Dean growled as he dragged Sam the last few feet to his bedroom. Sam cooed when he threw him on the bed. He snarled when Dean backed away.

There was a tussle, but Sam was a writhing mess of hormones, and Dean was a better hand to hand fighter anyway. He threw Sam’s favorite dildo at him and bolted out the door before his cock overrode his common sense.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You have to have the world’s tiniest, driest asshole,” Sam grumbled as he cast his body down onto the kitchen chair next to Dean’s. He still smelled fantastic, heat not yet abated, but his eyes weren’t quite as glassy as they had been earlier. His hair, wet from his recent shower, was curling up at the nape of his neck, and Dean had to look away before he did something stupidly affectionate to those little strands.

“I love you too, Sam,” he tried for cocky, but he failed. Thankfully Sam was too whiny to notice.

“I don’t get why all your toys are so small,” Sam whined.

Dean’s glare was close to earnest when he responded with, “I don’t get why you were in my toys.”

“I broke mine,” Sam said with a shrug.

“You broke yours?” Dean repeated dumbly.

“Like you haven’t,” Sam laughed.

Dean didn’t think that wearing out multiple omega pockets was what Sam was referring to, but he nodded anyway. It wasn’t like he was lying. Just… he hadn’t been shoving it up his ass at the time.

“I just don’t know how anything that small could possibly be satisfying,” Sam explained.

Dean did not let out a strangled sound. He didn’t. “TMI, Sammy,” he said in the sternest voice he could muster. “Nobody needs to know about your easy ass.”

Sam laughed and shoved his shoulder. “Jerk.”

“Yeah, yeah. You want lunch?” Lunch sounded like a great idea to Dean. Lunch would mean food smells. Food smells would compete with Sam smells. It was a solid plan.

“Probably should before the next wave hits,” Sam agreed. “Although… I don’t suppose you would consider going on an errand for me? I’d go myself, but…”

Dean couldn’t hold back the growl that formed in his throat at the thought of his Sam out in the world alone, heat scent reeling in dirty, unworthy studs.

“You’re such a den mother,” Sam told him. “Getting all growly over your cub.”

“You’re not my cub,” Dean huffed, rubbing the back of his neck to get the tension out of it.

“Now you admit it? When I’m all grown up?”

Dean didn’t point out that grownups didn’t leave their birth control behind them when they fled a city. Mostly because he didn’t want Sam to go on a tirade about how most adults didn’t have to be fleeing cities in the first place. Instead he threw a pad and pencil at Sam. “Write down what you need, Princess. Wouldn’t want your so much more omega hole being all deprived.”

Sam smiled at him. “You’re the best,” he said softly.

Dean’s cock twitched hopefully at the gentle look Sam was giving. It throbbed and tried to fatten up in the hopes of convincing Dean’s upstairs brain to go over there and flirt with the pretty man sitting on the chair, show him just how big a real alpha’s cock was. Convince him that the babies he wanted to have would be perfect if they had a chance of inheriting green eyes, freckles and annoying bowlegs.

Sometimes Dean really hated his dick.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Tell me you didn’t break another one,” Dean said three days later.

Sam whined in frustration and threw the now broken silicone dick against the kitchen wall. Dean wrinkled his nose at the trail of fertile scent it spread on its flight. Thanks to two years of almost constant practice, he made it look like he was sniffing in disgust instead of trying to inhale the aroma.

“Your birth control is super defective or something,” Sam complained, hopping up on the kitchen counter with a wet squelch that Dean was not going to acknowledge he heard.

“And that gives you a reason to assault the poor kitchen walls with unsanitary sex toys?” Dean quipped back. He couldn’t bring himself to drag his eyes away from the electric blue dildo and the way the shaft had stretched away from the knotting mechanism.

Sam scowled at him. “I feel like my insides are turning into nothing but a giant, grasping pool of slick.”

“Sexy,” Dean choked out with as much sarcasm as he could muster.

“I’m not joking, Dean. I’ve never had a heat this intense. You know that irritating voice that chants ‘spermspermspermspermbabybabybabybabybaby?’ Well it is full tilt, in stereo getting rapped by an opera star who is living in my man uterus.”

Dean blinked at him. He’d read his fair share of back issues of Omega Monthly in clinics. They always talked about heat cycles as these miraculous, to be celebrated experiences that made an omega feel closer to the Earth or something. That was the last damn time he was going to believe something in a magazine.

“Well, it can’t last forever?” Dean managed to make his mouth say.

“I want a man,” Sam whined. “Maybe you could…”

“No!”

“You didn’t even know what I was going to…”

“No! No, Sam. I am not going to go find you real dick,” Dean said firmly. “If your birth control isn’t keeping your heat cycle low, it sure as hell isn’t keeping you infertile.”

“You have a dick,” Sam pointed out.

Dean gaped at him.

“Oh, come on. Like you haven’t thought about it,” Sam scoffed. “It isn’t like I’m blind, you know? I know that you aren’t exactly straight, Dean. I’ve seen you looking at a few beta girls, caught you flirting with that omega in Florida.”

“Snoopy,” Dean hissed.

“Worried,” Sam corrected. “Come on, Dean. You know how alphas get when they find out an omega bats for the other team.”

The words stung even though they shouldn’t. Dean had very carefully made everybody think he was the exact opposite of what he was. That knowledge didn’t keep him from spitting back, “Well, if alphas are so damned evil, why the hell do you want one so bad? And where did you even hear that shit about alphas anyway? They’re rarer than you are. Fucking idiot kids talking trash in school?”

Sam bit his lip and frowned. Dean tried to look pissed instead of hurt.

“Rarer than I am?” Sam repeated back.

“I just…”

“Look, Dean. I know you don’t want to talk about it, but there are corrective surgeries that can be done if you don’t…”

“FOR FUCK’S SAKE, SAM! Just quit talking, please.”

“No. No, we need to talk about this,” Sam said. “California is pretty open minded, and it would be expensive, but…”

“I’m not an omega,” Dean spat at him.

Sam nodded, eyes tearing up. “I know. I know. And that’s okay. I’m sorry I teased you earlier, and…”

“Oh God,” Dean said into his hands. “Sammy, I’m not an omega.”

“It’ll be fine,” Sam assured him, trying to pull him in for a hug.

Dean pushed him away. “Let’s try this again. Big brother doesn’t have man ovaries.”

“Dean, I know that it feels that way, but denial of your parts can lead to health issues.”

“You are so frustrating,” Dean told him. “How about this: Dean’s dick is fucking huge. Dean’s dick gets huger when it knots. Dean carries fake slick in his duffle and takes hormone pills so he doesn’t get thrown out on the street because his dad thinks he might go knot crazy and knock up his little brother.”

“What?” Sam squeaked.

“Yeah, well, I was sixteen. I had a lot of worries,” Dean mumbled.

“You fucker,” Sam said, shoving him.

“Hey, it is still not my fault that you forgot your birth control and didn’t tell me about it,” Dean defended himself.

“You fucker,” Sam repeated, grabbing Dean’s arm and hauling him close so that he could sniff at his neck. “God, what the fuck have you been doing to your body?”

“Ummm, little lost here?” Dean croaked.

“Your smell has always been a little off,” Sam mumbled as he mouthed at Dean’s neck. “Too strong for an omega, way too soft for a beta – everybody thought you had one of those glandular problems.”

“Was kind of the point,” Dean said.

“Poor baby,” Sam cooed, big hand curling around Dean’s crotch.

“Are you talking to my dick?” Dean asked.

“Poor, poor little fella, all mistreated and pumped full of things that are bad for it,” Sam continued.

“Hey, big fella,” Dean corrected. Because, of course that was the important thing to say when his little brother was groping him.

“How big?” Sam asked, pulling his face away from Dean’s neck to stare at his face with glassy eyes.

“Really? Because I’m still your brother, and you’re still… Sammy, I didn’t say you could take it out and look,” Dean protested as he swatted away the hand that was trying to undo his fly.

“Please?” Sam pouted.

“Not until you’re off your hormone high, okay? Now why don’t we get you back to bed so you can ride off the next wave?”

“After?” Sam asked.

Dean just shoved him in the bedroom and threw a spare dildo at him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So I kind of think you’re a jerk,” Sam informed him a few hours later.

“Uh-huh.”

“And I think that as recompense for me dosing myself with extra omega hormones you should let me see your dick,” Sam continued.

“Why?”

“Because.”

“You’re just horny.”

“Nope. I mean, yeah, but no.”

“Really clear. Thanks,” Dean said.

“Oh come on, you think that I’d ask just any stud to show me his dick?” Sam asked. “Do you really think that I’ve lost all my common sense just because I’m in heat and desperate?”

“I’m not sure why you’re asking at all,” Dean told him.

“Because I want to have sex with you,” Sam told him.

“Right. And I’m not supposed to link that back to your insanely hormonal state how?”

To his surprise, Sam scurried away back to his room. Then he bounded back with a notebook.

“Tell me you weren’t in there scribbling in your diary instead of humping finely crafted fake dick,” Dean said as he grabbed the book from Sam’s hands.

“That fake dick is cheap ass crap that you got taken on,” Sam informed him primly. “Now look at the damned book.”

Dean opened the cover to find page after page of statistics and budgets. There were all manner of subsections referenced that had to be laws of some sort. There were mileage estimates and sperm clinic names and…

“What is this?”

“My marriage proposal for us - once I got your ass to California and away from Dad,” Sam told him.

“First of all, marriage proposals involve rings and romantic settings not mortgage estimates and credit checks. Second of all, why?”

Sam shrugged. “Look, I figured you were pretty butch, right? And I like that, but Dad wasn’t going to go for it. So I figure I get you to somewhere a little more open minded, and you could be you. Then you could start fucking me senseless on a regular basis, and we could find a way for us to make babies and live happily ever after.”

“I’m your brother. You thought I had omega dick.”

“There are sex aids for reassignment surgeries. They developed these little air bladders that can be surgically implanted for alphas who have had knot cancer to regain their…”

“Stop. Please. I do not want to be thinking about balloon knot replacement surgery right now. Also? I’m still your brother.”

“Um, yeah?”

“Dude! Incest!”

“Yeah… so you know that’s kind of how the whole alpha-omega thing rolls, right? We tend to interbreed pretty heavily because our genes are super recessive to regular beta genes. It’s a weird kind of survival of the fittest. Not all omegas, obviously, but there are enough. Of course with you being all alpha…” Sam trailed off.

“With me being all alpha what?” Dean snapped.

“It’s just. About the farthest you guys ever settle down from the family tree is second cousins. You’re like inbred to want to inbreed or something, naturally predisposed to be distrusting of anybody that isn’t family. Which makes all kinds of sense now because, wow you are really contrary with the whole meeting new people thing.”

“I am not,” Dean huffed. “I meet lots of people. People love me.”

“They do,” Sam agreed, “but it isn’t about them.”

Dean growled at Sam. Sam smiled back at him, “Am I not supposed to find that hot? Because, I hate to break it to you, but it’s hot.”

“You’re hormonal,” Dean dismissed.

“Again with the hormones. Yes, I’m hormonal. Yes, I want sex. Yes, I want your cock right now, right here. That doesn’t make me addle brained. Excuse me for being excited that I don’t have to save up money for expensive surgical procedures and fees for fertility treatments. Assuming, of course, that you haven’t damaged your endocrine system with your self-doctoring.”

“Wait. Did you just call me a stupid knot head?” Dean asked.

Sam sighed and shifted. “Can we not argue right now? I love you. I want to have your babies. You’re a moronic jerk who has been panting after my sweet ass for the past few days instead of boning it.” He held up a hand. “Don’t say it’s just hormonal. I know you better than that. I wasn’t going to propose to you because I thought you’d be unhappy playing Sammy’s husband.”

“Sammy’s husband?” Dean tried to say sarcastically, but his cock jerked at his words.

Sam smirked at him. “Like that idea, huh? Put a ring on my finger, get me all knocked up, waddling to class with a belly full of baby? Could probably have three or four by the time I’m done with law school. “

“You’re eighteen,” Dean choked out.

“I know,” Sam said, shoving his sweatpants down over his hips exposing his crotch to Dean’s gaze, “I’m legal and everything.”

His dick was fat and hard, curling ever so slightly to the right. It was a pretty picture, but his scent was what drove Dean crazy. Slick and hot and sweet and…

“Wow,” Sam said.

Dean flushed, hand shooting down in a futile attempt to cover the bulge he was sporting.

“No, no, I wanna see it,” Sam reminded him, pulling the hand away. “Unless you really don’t want me to see it,” he said, uncertainty finding its way into his voice for the first time.

“Now you’re second guessing yourself? After you got me all hot and bothered with domestic dirty talk?” Dean gasped, allowing his fingers to pop the button on his jeans and pull the zipper down. “And I’m not getting you knocked up four times before you graduate law school. I’m not a redneck.”

“You are totally a redneck,” Sam disagreed, “and don’t even try convincing me you don’t have a family fixation.”

“That can wait until after you’re old enough to rent a car,” Dean scolded him.

“I rented a car last week,” Sam reminded him as he slid his hand into his brother’s pants.

“Legally with your actual driver’s license,” Dean told him.

“My hand is down your pants right now,” Sam said in return.

“So?”

“Don’t you have better things to be doing?”

Dean grinned at him. “Nope.”

Sam yanked his hand out and then yanked Dean towards his bedroom. “Bed. Now.”

The whole room reeked of heat scent, and Dean’s cock decided it needed to get out of his pants as soon as possible. At least that was what Dean figured happened when he found himself splayed naked on his back, with Sam straddling him.

“All these years I thought you were a shower,” Sam mused. “Look at how thick you are,” has said as he wrapped his long fingers around Dean’s significant girth.

“You always talk this much during sex?” Dean panted.

“You’re a jerk,” Sam reminded him as he guided Dean’s cock tip to his ass and started sinking down.

Dean wasn’t sure which one of them groaned. All he knew was that Sam’s insides were slick and hot and more than welcoming. Dean’s knot was started to plump up before Sam even got all the way down his length.

“God yes,” Sam whimpered, “so much better than goddamned silicone.”

“Glad to be of…” Dean’s witty reply was stolen from his throat as Sam started riding him. His movements were jerky and quick as he bounced on Dean’s lap. Timing his thrusts upwards was difficult because Sam didn’t seem to be able to settle into a rhythm. It was awkward and messy, but Dean wasn’t complaining – not when his knot started swelling up and he didn’t have to pull out and hide it.

Plus it was Sam. Dean had always been crazy about Sam, and he couldn’t help but find the idea of always keeping him to be an appealing one. He wouldn’t have to worry if Sam’s baby daddy was treating him right if Dean was the one playing that role.

“You going to knot me proper?” Sam challenged as the knob started dragging more each time it popped in and out of his body.

There was only one answer for that sort of sass. Dean flipped them over, got Sam on his hands and knees and gave it to him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So it gets bigger, right?” Sam asked as he sprawled across Dean’s naked chest, making patterns in the sweat he found there. It was sort of disgusting, at least in Dean’s opinion, but Sam seemed pleased enough with his odd finger painting endeavor.

“I guess,” Dean said.

“You guess?”

“Are you going to lecture me if I tell you I haven’t exactly let it fully enlarge?” Dean asked.

“Ever?” Sam sounded scandalized.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’” Dean grumbled.

“You are going to the doctor with me tomorrow,” Sam ordered him. “We’re going to get you checked out and figure out what you’ve done to yourself with all this bullshit hiding. Then we’re going to come back here and pack up because you were right about one thing.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

“Dad is not going to be happy that you went knot crazy and knocked up your little brother.”

Dean snorted. “You’re not pregnant. You just made me take you to the emergency room for the morning after pill, remember? It was how you got an appointment to see a doctor tomorrow in the first place?”

“A man can dream, can’t he?” Sam told him.

Dean sighed. “When you’ve got your four year degree, we’ll talk about it. Okay?”

“I’ll be twenty-two by then,” Sam pouted. “How about twenty? Then I wouldn’t be a ‘teenager’ anymore.”

“Sam…”

“Twenty-one? I could legally drink by then. If I’m old enough to drink, I’m old enough to bitch about not being able to drink because I’m pregnant.”

“We’ll talk about it when the crazy man who mapped out our future in a notebook comes back from heat vacation,” Dean told him.

Sam pinched his nipple, hard. “We’ll be fine so long as you follow section four.”

“That the personal finances one?” Dean asked.

“Nope. I like to call it, ‘The Stay at Home Alpha,’” Sam informed him.

“Dean Winchester: House Husband?” Dean asked.

“That works too.”

Dean felt his lips tug into a smile. “I guess it kind of does.”


End file.
